Brothers In Arms
by sazza-da-vampire
Summary: Family Matters. Snapshots of the Fellowship, as they get to know one another. Includes Gandalf tricking Legolas into drinking too much wine, Aragorn eating a spider, Boromir and Legolas discovering they are not so different, Pippin being generally adorable and a case of the flu bringing Gimli and Legolas to an understanding
1. From the Forest to the Valley

Disclaimer: I own nothing recognisable.

**BROTHERS IN ARMS**

From the Forest to the Valley** 3018 September  
**To Represent the Elves **3018 November  
**My Dear AdarI Never **3018 November  
**A Spindly Spider Salad **3018 December  
**Tathar's Tale **3018TA December  
**To be a Captain or a King, or a Steward or a Prince, or a Scout? **3018 December  
**Before Coming of Age**3018 December  
**Flu **3018 December  
**Spider!** 3019 January  
**The Purpose of Races **3019 January****  
**

From the Forest to the Valley, late August 3018

Legolas and Tathar walked through the treetops, an uneasy silence between them. Both Prince and bodyguard were deep in their thoughts, for their mission was not a happy one.

It was late August, and the memory of Gollum, and all that his captivity entailed, lay heavy on their hearts.

Three Elves had been slain or taken in June, when orcs attacked, and Gollum had escaped from the Elves' guard. They were highly experienced warriors of a patrol which had been together since their Trials, much like Legolas' own patrol. Legolas and Tathar had been close to Tuilë, for she had married Aglarmoth, a warrior of their first mission in South Mirkwood, and she was the mother of Lauruial.

Lauruial, a fierce young warrioress, was the bodyguard of Legolas' younger sister, Lothlomë, and so Legolas and Tathar had interfered time and again in her upbringing. Tuilë had spent her entire daughter's life trying to raise her as a good green-elf, and the fierce elleth had taken Legolas and Tathar to task many times for their pranks and jokes on the younger ellyth over the years.

Tuilë had been found, on what should have been a bright summer's day, lifeless at the foot of her heart-tree, her sword still gripped loosely in her stiff fist.

Tuilë had been the lucky one. Her daughter and her husband had lost hope at the sight of her body, but the lack of her companions' bodies was more concerning to the Elves who had found her.

Mallaer had been found by his brother in early August, caught in a spider's web. The trackers had determined that the ellon had been thrown there by the orcs, perhaps after a failed attempt at escape. Nar-rhîw had born the body back to their father, Hîmdol, the ageless advisor of the Greenwood.

Hîmdol and Nar-rhîw had been inconsolable upon the death of Mallaer, and the advisor was in danger of fading, according to the healers. But even Mallaer had been more fortunate than his colleague, Eleni.

Eleni had been the Captain of the Northern Excursions patrol, the usual patrol of which Tuilë had been part. This had been a time of relative leave for their patrol, with various duties about the Keep between missions north to the mountains and plains. If fate had been kinder, Eleni would have been found dead with her loyal companions.

There had been traces of the strong elleth, among the wreckage left in the foliage by the orcs. Those traces had been her clothes and her weapons, and occasionally her blood.

Eleni had never been found.

There was no doubt that the Sindarin elleth was a captive in Dol Guldor. Legolas only hoped that she would fade soon, for the only cure to be found after being tortured by Nazgûl was in Námo's Halls.

Eleni's daughter, Nímlos, had been in the healing ward when Legolas and Tathar set forth, sunk deep into a depression, for she had also been part of the northern excursions patrol, and the loss of her mother, and half of her teammates hit her hard. Cúluial, Eleni's husband and Nimlos' father, spent his days at his daughter's side, and the healers were worried that the seneschal would fade from grief.

Tathar's mother, Lothelleth, who shared the job of seneschal with Cúluial, had also been distraught by Eleni's disappearance. Lothelleth had been friends with Eleni since the beginning of Greenwood, and she had been methodically going about her duties, often doing more damage than she was fixing.

The trail for Gollum had been lost during August, for the time had indeed come that neither Tingallos nor Legolas would lead any elf near Dol Guldor, for the risk was too great. Darkness lay upon that part of the forest like a blanket, smothering all in its reach with a soul-sucking foulness. The evil of the place was unmistakeable and irreversible, as proven by three young new recruits, accompanying Tingallos on their first mission south, who had strayed too close and had been consumed by darkness, even as if they had been tortured by orcs. Those poor youngsters had been a tight-knit group, even more so after the misadventure in their youth when they had snuck a spider into the palace, resulting in the death of the Captain of the Guard.

Legolas had been in command of the tracking mission, and though it broke his heart to abandon the search for Eleni, there was no hope left after a month in the clutches of the orcs, and almost as long in the grip of a Nazgûl.

Now, Legolas had resigned as a Commander for the time being. His squadron, _Lalaith_, had been broken up, to fill the gaps left by recent deaths in active patrols. Brethildíl and Brethilríl had joined the Home Guard, while Aldanna had joined Tingallos' patrol once more, for the other southern patrol, though not patrolling Dol Guldor, was still patrolling the southern border of the Woodland Realm. Rílglín, and a number of others from _Lalaith_, had joined with some other warriors to form a new northern patrol, to replace Eleni's _Northern Excursions_.

Legolas and Tathar had been sent to Imladris, to bear the news to Lord Elrond.

Legolas jerked out of his musing when he heard voices floating through the trees. The rumbling, stone-like music of true Dwarvish song wafted through the darkness below, and Legolas realised that here the path through the canopy ran near to the single path through the forest floor.

With a few hand signals, for they were high enough in the trees for the failing daylight to illuminate the two elves, Legolas signalled to Tathar orders to approach the dwarves.

Soundlessly, the two elves made their way above the two Dwarves, for there was indeed only the pair. Both bristled with axes, and wore extremely long, bushy beards – Legolas was aware that this meant these Dwarves were very well respected within their Mountain, and perhaps meant they had not been defeated in battle in the last few years, depending on which particular clan they belonged to.

Tathar took his position, behind the dwarves, while Legolas perched on a branch in front of them. At a nod from Legolas, both Elves dropped from the canopy to land on either side of the two Dwarves.

The Dwarves startled, and each raised a large battle-axe. Legolas held his own hands out, empty, to show that he did not bear weapons.

"Greetings," Legolas said in clear Westron, knowing that to speak Sindarin or Silvan in front of the Dwarves would end badly for him. "I am Legolas of the Woodland Realm. Are you in need of a guide? You are going the wrong direction if you wish to make for Erebor."

The white-bearded Dwarf put his axe away, and at a few gruff words the red bearded one followed suit. "We do not make for Erebor," he stated, chin lifted proudly.

"I am Tathar Neldorornion of the Woodland Realm," Tathar made himself known, bowing to the Dwarves. To Legolas' surprise, they both bowed back, sweeping their arms wide.

"Gloin, at your service," said the white bearded one, and "Gimli, Gloin's son, at your service," the other introduced himself.

"I rather think you will find us to be at your service," Legolas commented dryly, gesturing to the trees shadowing the elf-path. Gloin chuckled darkly.

"That may be the case, indeed," the older Dwarf conceded.

Gimli stepped to the side of the path, and began spreading a bedroll. He took his father's pack, removing a second bedroll, and set about making the bit of road into a half-comfortable camp.

"It is getting late," Gloin commented on his son's actions, "and I know all too well how easily one might wander off the path in Mirkwood."

Legolas shrugged, and took out his own larger bedroll, setting himself up on the opposite side of the path to Gimli.

"Where do you go?" Tathar asked Gloin, taking out a pot, and starting to build a small fire with nearby twigs and deadwood.

"We go west," Gloin confided. "We bring news to Lord Elrond."

"What news?" Legolas asked sharply, cutting into the conversation.

Gloin pushed Tathar away from the still-unlit fire, taking out his own flint and steel. Seconds later, the Dwarf had a little blaze going, and the nearest trees shrank back a little from the flame.

"Your King already knows. That messenger from Mordor will return but once more, and requires an answer."

Legolas shuddered. "Yes, I am familiar with that situation. I brought the news of the second coming to the King myself."

Tathar was soon heating a stew from dried herbs and meat stored in his pack, and water.

"Are you just escorting us out of your realm, then?" Gloin asked, pulling out a bowl each for his son and himself.

Tathar shook his head as he searched his pack for his own bowl. Legolas answered. "We have news for Lord Elrond. You may have got word that the elves were attacked in June. It has been decided that it is time to involve the Wise once more in the affairs in South Mirkwood."


	2. To Represent the Elves

To Represent the Elves

Legolas sat down in Elrond's office, and accepted the cup of tea he was offered.

"Prince Legolas," Elrond began, "I know why you are here. You wish to accompany Frodo on his journey." It was not a question.

"That is true," the younger Elf conceded. "I believe that I would do more good on the Quest than rejoining the defence at home, after waiting here for the passes to reopen in spring." He folded his hands delicately on his lap, and awaited the Elf-Lord's answer.

That answer was not immediately forthcoming. Elrond placed his elbows on the desk, fingers on his forehead, as he debated internally. Finally, his opened his eyes to examine the young Elf before him. "There are others willing to make this journey. Elf-Lords of greater wisdom and experience than yourself."

Legolas nodded, for he already knew that Lord Glorfindel had volunteered, as well as both of Elrond's sons and a great many others besides. "I am aware of this, my Lord," he replied in measured tones.

Elrond sighed. "I had thought to send either Glorfindel or Elladan, or perhaps Elrohir," he confided, confirming the rumours Legolas had heard previously. "Why do you want to go?"

Legolas shrugged. "There are many reasons. I am friends with Aragorn, and I want to be by his side to support him through the darkness ahead. I cannot return home, for the northern passes are closed with winter, and the threat of Wargs and Orcs in the mountains is too great for any to travel alone. I have no place in the army of Imladris, for you have no lack of willing Captains of the Archers. I am not drawn to the power the Ring promises, for my own grandfather and a great many others of my family have directly suffered and died due to Sauron, so the Ring will not tempt me easily."

Elrond's gaze bore into Legolas' eyes, trying to find something, though what, Legolas did not know. "The same can be said for many Elves, some of whom are here in Imladris. Why are you so insistent that you want to go?"

Legolas returned the intense gaze, fire in his eyes. "You do not know?" he asked, surprised. "You really do not," he said to himself, in his native Silvan dialect, as he realised that the Elf-Lord truly did not know Legolas' true qualification. Returning to the Sindarin language, he confessed to Lord Elrond what he had done almost eighty years earlier.

"I am one of two Elves who dared to venture forth to Dol Guldor during the time of the Necromancer. The other is in Mirkwood, leading the sorties in the furthest south."

Elrond almost didn't believe him. "Gandalf discovered that the Necromancer was Sauron," he said uncertainly.

Legolas chuckled hollowly. "Who do you think told Gandalf there was a Necromancer? Aldanna and I stumbled across the evil in the old fortress long before rumour of his existence reached Mithrandir, and we kept watch on his activities for a time every year long before anyone else dared spy on Dol Guldor. The truth is, Lord Elrond, there are only two Elves in Arda with the experience of facing Sauron himself, and the other is as young as I, leading the attacks on Dul Goldur."

Elrond sighed, as if in defeat. "You father will skin me alive if I send you to Mordor."

"I would be ashamed to be left behind, cowering in the Hidden Valley!" Legolas shouted, standing. He did not realise that he had said much the same as Pippin, for the Hobbit had spoken in Westron when he had voiced the same sentiment.

Legolas bowed stiffly, turned, and left the study. Elrond, behind him, grimaced as he made up his mind. To represent the Elves, he would send the most qualified Elf in Imladris, even if that meant sending someone whom he should have, by rights, kept locked up safe within the walls of the Hidden Valley.

.

Legolas had only one moment of doubt about his place in the Quest. It was in Lothlorien, where he found himself confiding, surprisingly, in Gimli, that perhaps Lord Glorfindel should have come instead, for he had fought a Balrog of Morgoth before.

"Laddy," the Dwarf huffed, placing a hand on Legolas' arm, "Elrond would not have sent you if he did not believe you were meant to be here. If Glorfindel had come instead, I do not expect that he would have survived the Balrog, and now we would be in the same position, but instead of losing Gandalf, we would have lost our Elf. How would that sound in the stories?"

Legolas looked up, surprised at the strange thing to say. Gimli laughed loudly, but kindly. "Lad, imagine that! A representative of each race, and we lose the Elf! I suppose we could just pick up another one here! But really lad, I am glad you are with us. You are a strange Elf, that's for certain, but you are the Elf of our Fellowship, and have become a great friend to us all."

"Thank you, Gimli," Legolas stuttered, grasping the Dwarf's arm in a warrior's grip. "I am glad to be your friend."

"And I yours, Elf," Gimli chuckled, returning the grip.


	3. My Dear Adar

_My dear Adar, _

Legolas hesitated, unsure of how to phrase the inevitable confession. Common courtesy dictated that he let his father know about his proposed excursion, especially given the potentially deadly nature of the quest. He was, frankly, terrified of what his father would have to say about it.

_I have informed Lord Elrond of the creature Gollum's escape, as my task demanded. I learned that this news is more evil than we had been led to believe, as the One Ring has once again appeared, and Sauron seeks to dominate all life through it. Many councils were held, and it was concluded that the only way to safeguard all of Arda against the might of Sauron is to destroy the evil which holds Sauron's life and his power - the Ring. _

_A Hobbit from the Shire, cousin to the esteemed Bilbo Baggins, has volunteered to take the Ring to Mordor, where it may be destroyed once and for all. With him go his cousins, two brave young Hobbits, and his gardener - a most charming Hobbit whose determination to see to his friend's safety and health is admirable. _

_Mithrandir the Wizard plans to lend his aid and protection to the Ringbearer, as do a small number of representatives from each free race. A Man of Gondor, Boromir, son of the Steward Denethor, is travelling back to Minas Tirith and will protect the hobbits until they reach Gondor and perhaps further. A Ranger of the North, Aragorn, also travels to Gondor and will protect the Hobbits. _

_The Dwarvish representative is a fierce Dwarf named Gimli, the son of Gloin whom ventured into Mirkwood sixty years ago. He is very fond of the Hobbits and will protect them well. _

_I have volunteered my aid as a representative of the Elves. I believe that I will be of more help to the Ringbearer than I would be to you at home, defending your Kingdom. This I say because the other Elves willing to travel with Frodo are old, tired, hopeless beings who have fought Darkness for time uncounted, but yearn for a happier time they once knew, while they have been changed irrefutably by war. I believe that were one of these Elves from Imladris to attempt the Quest, the way may become too dark for him to see any hope of overcoming this evil. _

_I, on the other hand, have never known a life protected from the Dark. I have fought the nameless creatures since the day I first learnt to wield a knife, and all the happiness I have ever known has been tainted by the fear of tomorrow, so I do not lose hope as easily as might an older Elf who remembers true safety. _

_I am much like any number of young Elves raised in Mirkwood. I do not believe that I am indispensable to the defence of our home. _

_I am sorry Adar, I know that you will not wish me to take on the responsibility of this Quest, but I believe that I am the most able Elf to serve and protect all the peoples of Middle Earth by keeping Frodo safe. _

_I will return to you one day, but I cannot promise that this war will not change me. I am no longer the wide-eyed child who stabbed his first Spider, and when I come home I hope to be something more than a Woodland Elf. These may be my last words to you, if fortune does not smile upon us, and so I say to you now: I love you, Adar, and I love our home and our people. I go on this Quest not for myself, not for Aragorn, not for Frodo, not even for you, but for every one of the Free People who walk this good earth under threat of the Shadow. _

_Farewell, Adar. _

_Legolas of the Woodland Realm. _

_P.S. please tell Lothlomë, Gilloth, Melloth, Aldanna, Brethildíl, Brethilríl, Nímlos, Coirellach and especially Nana that I love them too. Enclosed are some leaves of athelas, a healing herb we do not find at home. Tell Nana to crush a leaf in a bowl of hot water, and breathe the fumes. It helps to fight the despair and darkness. She will know when to use it. _

Placing his quill on the desk, Legolas heaved a sigh. He began the arduous task of checking and double-checking his Silvan writing, for the information contained in the letter was more than enough to doom them all, if it fell into the wrong hands.

All Elves and a good number of Men and even Dwarves knew Sindarin, and most Elves of Imladris and Lorien knew Quenya, while most Elves and Dwarves and nearly all other Free Folk besides spoke the Common Tongue, so Legolas penned his letter in the quaint language of the native wood-elves, a language spoken exclusively by residents of the Greenwood, and even then only the Silvan folk and some few of the Sindar (including the Royal family) spoke it fluently. Legolas was quite sure that even if the messenger was tortured and forced to read aloud he would only be able to make out names of people and perhaps places, for the messenger was an elf of Imladris.

Secure in the thought that his letter was both accurate and coded, Legolas sealed the parchment scroll with a few drops of wax, and set it aside to be delivered to the messengers leaving for Mirkwood and Erebor in the morning.

.

Two months later, Legolas sat outside the shut West-Door to the Mines of Moria. _Black Pit_, he thought, _is a fitting name for the place. No living Dwarf is inside, I'd wager, for if there were, we would have been greeted long ago. _

Legolas remembered writing to his father about how he'd volunteered for this mission, believing himself more able to hope in the face of darkness. Now, the Dark was all too quickly becoming all too real. He had no wish to enter Moria, and was only too happy to volunteer to scout the other side of the mountain by crossing the Pass of Caradhras and meet the Fellowship on the other side. All he needed was a way to present the idea to Mithrandir and Aragorn.

Too soon for Legolas' liking, and unfortunately before he'd come up with a way to word his idea, the doors were open, and the Watcher in the Water attacked Frodo, and then, before Legolas could comprehend it, he was in the dark, inside the tomb-like Mines, and all light from outside was cut off by the cascade of falling rock blocking the space where the open door had stood moments earlier.

That was when Legolas clung to Hope, and if that hope was more the Man who had once gone by that name than the promise of a happy ending, it was enough.

Almost.

.

Legolas could count. He'd never been particularly attentive during maths lessons, especially not when half of them had been interrupted by the charming tree growing just outside the window, but he did know when to avoid a losing battle. His tutor had once told him to never enter a battle he could avoid, unless he outnumbered the enemy three to one. Now, at Helm's Deep in the mountains bordering Rohan, he was part of a host of three hundred elderly men and young boys, waiting to be attacked by what could well be ten thousand Uruk-Hai.

Even Legolas at his coming of age hadn't been confident enough to take those chances.

They were outnumbered more than thirty to one, and one Uruk-Hai was likely more than enough to finish off each of these defenders.

As Legolas sat on the Deeping Wall, stewing over his fight with Aragorn, he realised something deep inside his heart: he hadn't lost hope. Not really, not yet.

After all, there was still a Sun in the sky, and still Stars lighting the night, and maybe, just maybe, Erkenbrand and his two thousand Riders of Rohan would arrive before it was too late.

After all, one Rider of Rohan outmatched ten Uruk-Hai. And there were two thousand Riders of Rohan somewhere on the north-western plains of Rohan.

.

The day the Sun did not rise was the day Legolas nearly lost Hope. He sat on the prow of the commandeered ship, rowing upriver far faster than he'd thought a ship could travel, and the day was dark.

Legolas spent the dark day making arrows, and sharpening his knives. Gimli joined him, and Legolas nearly smiled as he counted the Dwarf's many axes - far more than Legolas would ever have expected to be comfortable around. That one moment of light-hearted amusement was all it took to tip the scales back in favour of Hope, as Legolas remembered why _he_ was here, and not some powerful old Elf-Lord.

Legolas knew how to keep hope against the Dark. He'd done it all his life.

After all, the dark in southern Mirkwood was as unnatural as the dark of this day, and as evil.

And Legolas had fought that Dark every day of his life.

.

Legolas held onto hope when the host of the West was surrounded by enemies on the plains before the Black Gate. He fought with honour and valour, and tried to keep close to both Peregrin and Aragorn, to help them if they had need of it.

Out of the corner of his eye, Legolas saw a huge troll, and another glance revealed Aragorn fighting it desperately. Legolas kept stabbing and slicing the orcs before him, but then Aragorn fell under the Troll's brutal strength. Desperately, Legolas tried to reach him, but it was for naught, and finally, Legolas' distraction nearly killed him when a blade flicked before his face. Legolas snapped back to reality, fighting with all he had left, but came to one terrible conclusion:

Legolas had finally lost Hope, here at the End of All Things.

When Orodruin erupted, and the rest of the host cheered as their enemies fled, Legolas desperately searched for Aragorn, and Peregrin, and Gimli, and did not trust to hope until he had Aragorn tired but alive in his arms. Soon Gimli's voice rang out, and Legolas helped to pull Peregrin out from under a goblin, alive but unconscious, and then Legolas wept in gladness, for they had defeated the Shadow, even when all hope had fled at the last.

**This came from some mulling over the idea that perhaps the Ring affects people differently - for example, Boromir wanted to use it as a weapon, while Bilbo didn't want to let it go, and Frodo wanted to protect it (while under the Ring's influence, of course). I like the idea that the Ring worked on Merry, Pippin and Sam (unsuccessfully) as they journeyed from the Shire to Rivendell, and tried to affect Aragorn (unsuccessfully) between Bree and Rivendell. It already tried Gandalf in Hobbiton. So, logic dictates that between Rivendell and Parth Galen (where it was physically separated from the rest of the Fellowship), that the Ring exerted its effort on Legolas, Gimli and Boromir, having already discovered that the others would take longer to be affected. Perhaps the Ring tried to take away Legolas' hope, something which still haunts him later (Helm's Deep and the Morannon especially). Perhaps the Ring was part of why Gimli was so sure they would find Dwarves in Moria - it wanted him to take it to Moria, where Gimli could either take the Ring for himself or give it to a Dwarf-Lord such as Balin. **


	4. I Never

I Never

"Hullo Legolas," Merry cheerfully plopped down beside the strange Elf as he sat on the edge of a balcony in Rivendell.

"Good morning, Merry," Legolas returned, hiding his surprise at the young Hobbit's approach.

"I don't know if you'd be interested, but Gandalf wants all of us that are going with Frodo to go to some sort of get-to-know-you thing today. There will be food!" Merry grinned exuberantly at the prospect, remembering Pippin's reaction to Gandalf's proposed luncheon.

"I'd be delighted to join you," Legolas smiled back at Merry. "Where are we going?"

Merry grasped the Elf's hand and proceeded to drag him along to the meeting place, where all of the adventurers had gathered in a circle around a heavily laden trestle table, fairly groaning underneath a Hobbit-sized meal for nine.

"Welcome!" Gandalf greeted Elf and Hobbit, and gestured to the spread. "Help yourselves, and we'll get started."

Legolas took a glass of wine that Frodo offered him and a bowl of some sort of mushroom dish which Sam pressed into his hands, and settled down between Aragorn and Merry for whatever Gandalf had in store.

"First things first: Introductions!" Gandalf said, gesticulating wildly, and Legolas wondered just how many glasses of strong wine the wizard had already consumed. "I need no introduction," he continued. "Boromir, you next!"

The first introductions were over quickly, more as a way of ensuring that everyone knew each other's proper names than anything else. Soon, Pippin had suggested a game.

"We often play it when the different sides of the family gather together. It's called I Never."

"And how, pray tell, does one play I Never?" Boromir asked the little Hobbit carefully.

With delight, Pippin explained that it was a drinking game, and you take a sip for each thing you have done before.

"For example," Pippin continued, "I say,' I never met a Dwarf before,' and Gimli drinks - and, well, anyone else who met a Dwarf before coming here to Rivendell. Well, drink! And anyone surprising has to tell the story," he added with a wicked grin and a glint in his eyes.

Gimli took a sip, and Aragorn and Gandalf also did so. Legolas shrugged, and sipped.

"Legolas?" Gandalf started upon seeing Legolas drink. "I'm not sure you understand. You don't drink unless you've met a Dwarf before. This time in Imladris doesn't count, as we all met Gimli and his father."

"But I have," Legolas replied. "I was quite young, and in a bit of distress, so I don't really remember terribly well. But there was one, a Dwarf Prince, who was shouting very loudly at my brother-in-law. But he thought it was my father. It was a very confusing meeting."

"Hmm," Gandalf accepted the answer, though he watched Legolas with one twinkling eye for a few more moments.

"I never had a title," Merry said, when Pippin elbowed him in the ribs to get the game really going. Almost all of the Fellowship drank, and Pippin insisted that each tell his title. "Captain," was the title Aragorn, Boromir and Legolas each claimed, while Sam claimed Frodo to be a Master.

"I never floated down a river in a barrel," Sam said on his turn.

"Like Mr Bilbo and all those Dwarves!" Pippin exclaimed as he took a swig. Merry, Gimli and Legolas did also.

"My old dad was telling the story of the great escape from Mirkwood," Gimli rumbled at the hobbits' prodding. "And so my brothers and I decided to have a try. We had to be rescued by the Men from Laketown, because we didn't realise how fast the River Running really runs."

"Merry and I tried to be like Bilbo, climbing on top of the barrels," Pippin proclaimed proudly. "My arms weren't long enough to get around the barrel, so I kept falling off. My dad had to fish me out of the river." Everyone laughed gaily, imagining the little hobbit on the end of a long stick, getting lectured by his father (which each imagined as his own father with curly hair and furry toes).

Then Legolas had to tell his story. He took a deep breath, and began. "I wasn't imitating Bilbo and the Dwarves. It was long ago, when I was only as tall as Pippin here, and the dragon had come to Rhovanion only the previous year. My friends and I were playing hide and seek in that little cellar, and Brethildíl had the brilliant idea of hiding in the barrels. Tathar, Aldanna and I were in our own barrels when we heard someone come in. It wasn't Brethilríl."

"Who?" Sam asked, then blushed in embarrassment.

"Brethildíl and Brethilríl are sister and brother. They are near my own age, we grew up together. Tathar and Aldanna are my best friends. But the person who came in was actually three elves, with the task of sending the empty barrels back down the river."

"You got pushed in? Just like Bilbo and the Dwarves!" Merry crowed excitedly.

"We got pushed in," Legolas confirmed with a grin, and the whole company roared with laughter. Legolas grinned, for he had long gotten past the fear and anxiety which he had suffered during and after his days in the barrel, and indeed, the story was now all but a legend among the Elves.

Soon Legolas was having a grand old time, as the statements became more and more outrageous.

"I never laughed at an angry parent" soon led to "I never laughed at an Orc" which beget "I never got called an Orc" and many more besides.

"My foster father, Lord Elrond," Aragorn began, blushing brightly, "was telling his twin sons off for being immature and irresponsible. They had just returned from two months of seeking orcs to fight, and I was young. I was so glad to hear someone else being dressed down by my father that I paid more attention to his face than his words. It was then that I realised Lord Elrond has very mobile eyebrows, especially when he's illustrating a point. I ended up sharing the twins' punishment for my insolence," Aragorn finished this last in a whisper, and the four Hobbits, who had crept closer as Aragorn's voice decreased in volume, laughed and rolled backwards like overexcited children, giggling on the grass.

When the laughter died down, Gimli wiped the tears of mirth from his eyes and took up his own story. "I have many brothers," the Dwarf began, "and one sister. Now, my sister is older than all our brothers but for myself, and when she was an adolescent, she started seeing a male dwarf each evening. Two of my brothers, one an adolescent and the other still a child, followed her one evening. My father discovered this fact, upon retiring for the day, and found the pair of them, peering through a crevice into a beautiful communal cave, filled with shatteringly glorious spires of gems, where the light plays charming tricks. It is a common place for young couples to seek a romantic evening, which was exactly what my sister and her beau had in mind.

"Now, as it happened, that entrance to that passageway with the crack was my own path between the training grounds and our home. I watched my brothers get caught by our father, and he punished them severely for insulting our sister's honour by spying upon her! I laughed then, and of course I ended up being punished with them, for I had indeed been spying upon my brothers, which was why they themselves were in trouble!" He then laughed gleefully, and continued, "but it was worth it to see my father punish the boys rather than myself, for I was nearly upon my majority, and had no wish to remain a child in anyone's eyes."

After the laughter died down a little, Legolas sheepishly confessed to having laughed at his father when he had fallen from a tree during Legolas' adolescence.

"I was an adolescent, also, when I laughed at my father. It is not a clever idea to laugh at your father in any case, but my father is the King of the Wood Elves, and widely famed for his unpredictability. However, there was little else I could do other than laugh, considering the situation."

"Well?" Pippin demanded, grinning widely in expectation of another juicy sibling rivalry story.

"My sister and our nieces were still children, and a family outing was planned with a few other families, who had children of the same age as myself or my sister. Lothlomë climbed high in a tree, and refused to come down when the rest of us wanted to eat lunch. It was a day off for everyone, and most of the parents present were members of the Forest Guard, and so climbing trees on their day off was not on any of the wood-elves' minds."

"Did she ever come down?" Sam asked, then blushed when Legolas glanced at him, smiling.

"Not at anyone's request. Even her best friend, Lauruial, couldn't get her to come down, and when Gilloth and Melloth also failed, my own friends volunteered to climb the tree. Aldanna and Brethildíl climbed swiftly, but Lothlomë still would not come down. At that point, my father decided to climb the tree."

"Is that unusual?" Frodo asked, eager to expand his knowledge of any and every Elf he could hear about.

Legolas smirked. "My father is purely Sindarin, and unlike the younger Sindar, did not grow up among Silvans. As such, he is not quite as good at navigating three dimensional space as his children are. He climbed as high as he could, and my mother, standing next to me, tutted and crossed her arms, ordering both her husband and daughter to stop this folly immediately. Of course, this did nothing but spur both to climb higher."

"How high did they go?" Boromir asked, and Legolas noticed that Mithrandir had a twinkle in his eye, as if he knew how this story ended.

"Lothlomë was little, small enough to reach the topmost branches, and she even looked above the trees. Adar, however, is a full grown Elf warrior, and though that particular day he had no armour or weapons, he was still too heavy for the tree to carry him as high as his daughter. We all saw the moment when the tree decided it had had enough, and suddenly my father fell, crashing through the branches to land hard upon the forest floor."

"He fell out of the tree?" Frodo asked incredulously, having difficulty imagining the proud Elvenking from Bilbo's stories falling out of trees.

Gimli chuckled. "Took him down a peg!" he chortled, and Legolas winked.

"He looked ridiculous, in a heap on the ground, shaking his fist as he told the tree off for dumping him in the dirt. We still tease him for it when he takes himself too seriously."

The laughter continued for several minutes, and Legolas decided that he quite liked this motley crew, even the Dwarf, strange as it seemed.

"I never laughed at an orc," Aragorn finally continued, and Boromir was the only one to take a sip.

Boromir had laughed at orcs in Osgiliath after taking the river, and next round Legolas suffered through recounting the time when his sister had found out about the real ghosts at her birthday party, calling him, and all his friends, orcs.

Legolas found that he needed to drink almost every round. "I never kissed a girl," Sam offered, and Legolas - along with Aragorn, Boromir and the more surprising Frodo and Gimli - took a sip.

Frodo blushed as he confessed his short romance with a Hobbit lass, and Gimli muttered something about a Dwarf woman as lovely as a cut gem. Aragorn, to no-one's surprise, mentioned Arwen with a far-off gaze. Boromir told of the young woman in Minas Tirith, whom he meant to marry if he could obtain her father's permission. Legolas confessed that he had once kissed his best friend, but only so that other males would stop pestering her after her coming-of-age. Merry claimed that it was an anticlimactic story, and proceeded to make up a tale involving himself and a barmaid of the Green Dragon. Sam promptly punched the 'lying git' in the mouth, and Merry hushed.

"I never wore silk," Sam stated, thinking of the splendid silk robes he had seen some Elf-lords wearing about Rivendell. Legolas drank, while Boromir and Gandalf thought long and hard before deciding they did not need to drink.

"Silk? I understand that silk is very expensive, and only made in the southernmost part of Gondor. My father possesses but a single silk robe," Boromir questioned the Elf. Legolas shook his head.

"Silk is abundant in Mirkwood. We collect the raw material often, and my honorary aunt, Ladlaurë, is the head seamstress who weaves the silk. We use it for many items of clothing."

"But silk is so delicate," Pippin argued, reddening as Merry gently teased him about snagging Lord Erestor's sleeve the previous morning.

"I have never ripped a silk garment," Legolas returned gleefully, forcing Pippin to drink.

"Are you wearing silk now, then?" Frodo asked, with a teasing glance to his young cousin.

"I am," Legolas answered. "Silk is much more abundant in my home than cotton or wool, though we do use them when they are available."

Boromir, rubbing his side where Merry had elbowed him, brought the game back on track. "I never ate a whole chicken in one sitting," he spluttered. Surprisingly, the only person to drink was Pippin, who stood to take a ridiculously grand bow when he realised he was the only member of the Fellowship to have this great achievement, or so he called it.

"I never met a dragon!" Frodo offered, plainly referring to his uncle's altercation with Smaug. Legolas took a sip, to the surprise of many.

"Smaug once tried to eat me," he found himself explaining his actions. "I was but a child, and did not fully understand what had happened. I thought it a dream at the time."

"I arrived with the Dwarvish host to the Battle of Five Armies," Gimli piped up, "but I never met the worm."

"It wasn't exactly an enviable experience. I was fortunate to escape with my life."

"I never dyed my skin or hair," Gandalf chuckled knowingly. Legolas rolled his eyes and sipped.

"I didn't know I was dyeing it. My best friend swapped my soap and shampoo with blue fabric dye. She also sliced the containers with her knife, so that each one exploded when I attempted to use the contents. I had blue skin for weeks, and blue hair for months." Everyone cracked up laughing, and Legolas had to join in, having long forgiven Aldanna for the little joke. True, his revenge had no doubt played a part in his acceptance of the situation.

The turns continued, with no surprising answers, for a few minutes.

"I never started a war," Boromir said on his next turn. Legolas, and Mithrandir sipped, and the Hobbits all looked, with terror in their eyes, at the Elf.

"Technically," Legolas clarified, "my father started the war to save me, so it wasn't really my fault. It wasn't really a war, anyway – more like a decision to protect our home rather than our allies, who tried to declare war on us, but couldn't wage one. It was all Smaug's fault, anyway."

Gandalf used the Battle of Five Armies as his explanation, but all present knew there was much he was not saying.

A few more rounds passed, and Legolas was feeling very mellow indeed. "I never was stupid enough to play a drinking game with Dorwinion wine!" Gandalf finally said, and Legolas was the only one to take a sip.

"Wait," Groggily, he looked around the circle, trying to focus his vision to its usual perfection, and becoming concerned about the strange wavering Frodo and Aragorn's faces had taken on. "So what are you lot drinking, then?" he finally managed to articulate, only to discover that the rest of the Fellowship was drinking weak human ale. "That's not quite fair," the Elf muttered, refilling his glass - this time with ale.

The very next statement, "I never ate poisonous berries," caused Legolas to taste the ale - which, to his undying horror, he reflexively spat out the moment he tasted it.

Amid gales of laughter, Boromir choked out, "I never spat out a mouthful of good ale!" to which Legolas refused to drink, claiming that the ale in question was the most vile drink he'd ever had the misfortune of tasting - even worse than the wine he and his friends had once tried to make from poisonous berries!


	5. A Spindly Spider Salad

A Spindly Spider Salad

The Fellowship sat around the campfire, after the first day of walking, and Sam passed out plates of stew. Someone suggested a story, and Pippin enthusiastically begged for stories of the Big Folk's childhood.

Gandalf, who stood watch, just shook his head as he ate, and returned his attention to the Wild.

Aragorn rolled his eyes, and began a short story.

"When I was just ten years of age, barely taller than a Hobbit, my home in Rivendell was visited by a group of adventuring Dwarves," he began. "They stayed a short while, and on Midsummer's Eve some of them closeted themselves away with Gandalf and Elrond to do secret business.

"Now, I had lived with Elves, and met many Men, but I had never before seen a Dwarf, so I was naturally curious. I hid behind a pot plant, in the room the Dwarves were meant to be sleeping, and soon was caught, betrayed by my excited fidgeting. The Dwarf who caught me was actually Gimli's father, Gloin," he said, nodding to the Dwarf, "and he proceeded to invite me into their game, for it seemed that some of the younger ones didn't particularly enjoy what they called green food, and the others were attempting to make them eat it.

"I, being a very brave young warrior, made a great show of picking up a piece of lettuce and eating it, waving it in front of a young Dwarf's nose, and I laughed when he flinched and very nearly ran away from the innocent leaf. Of course, it wasn't until a few moments later that I realised the lettuce had been set out for a long while, and a spider had crawled upon it - it was still there, and crawled right onto my hand!"

This was greeted with a great bout of laughter, and Aragorn continued. "The spider was missing a few legs on one side, I never found out whether I ate them or if they'd been lost earlier."

Pippin crawled into Aragorn's lap, and patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, Strider. I once fed a whole spider to my baby sister, and she was fine."

Legolas chuckled. "I once put a whole egg-sac of baby giant spiders in a cake, then gave it to my best friend."

"What could you possibly do to deserve that?" Boromir chuckled.

Legolas blushed. "She deserved it," he confirmed vaguely, trying to not remember those weeks and months he'd had blue skin and hair. Revenge had been very satisfying, though.


	6. Interlude

Interlude: Tathar's Tale

Primrose and Penelope Took were so excited when they caught sight of the Elves travelling through the Shire, and they were quite surprised to see an Elf who didn't really fit in. This one, instead of walking slowly, with his head hung, rode at the head of the group, a fierce glint in his green eyes, and he proudly wore a green tunic emblazoned with a single leaf.

The strange Elf was dark haired, like many of the other Elves, but what really struck Penelope as marking him as different was this proud Elf's skin - it did not reflect the stars above, and indeed, Frodo might not have seen him at all if not for the fact that this strange Elf was singing merrily.

"They are so sad," Primrose whispered, and Penelope nodded absently, eyes on the strange green Elf.

"Not that one," Penelope returned, pointing out the singer. "He looks as different to them as a Took is to a Sackville-Baggins."

Primrose caught sight of the green Elf, who soon disappeared, galloping off into the trees ahead of his company.

.

Tathar was the first to enter Mithlond, when the company arrived. Heedless of his companions, depressed Noldor that they were, the chirpy Silvan galloped ahead the moment he caught sight of the Grey Havens.

"Cirdan!" he greeted the bearded Elf when he dismounted in the courtyard. "I am glad to meet you! Tathar Neldorornion of Eryn Galen," he bowed as he introduced himself.

"It is not often that Wood-Elves come to the Havens," Cirdan commented, "nor that those seeking a ship are quite so merry."

Tathar shrugged. "I have not given up on Arda, nor has my King. I seek others of a like mind, across the Sundering Sea."

.

Tathar sailed with his company, and the wood-elf spent the best part of the trip in the crow's nest, where he felt quite at home. The swaying of the mast was sickening, according to some of the Noldor whom Tathar travelled with, but the movement reminded Tathar of a great tree caught in a storm, and of riding on the shoulders of the great Entwives, Shepherdesses of the Trees, whom had roamed the northern reaches of the Greenwood when Tathar was young.

As it was, Tathar was the first to glimpse the island of Tol Eressea, and he was also the first to disembark onto solid ground.

.

The Ring of Doom was not something Tathar had been prepared to face. In the Greenwood, King Thranduil was always careful to speak to his subjects as people, and audiences with wood-elves were often held amongst the trees, where the wood-elves felt comfortable. In Tathar's time, the great throne room in the caves had been used only when mortals were brought before the King, or when visiting Noldor were being welcomed to the Halls.

As such, Tathar had been prepared for an actual conversation with, perhaps, Manwë, one in which he could present his mission to be judged fairly by the Vala. Tathar had presented radical ideas to Thranduil many times before, and Thranduill had always heard him out, and discussed the ramifications with Tathar of implementing his new idea before judging yea or nay.

The Ring of Doom, Tathar thought, was a fitting name indeed. The Valar, all of them, surrounded Tathar, making him feel small, and beyond them were gathered a rather large audience of Elves and Maiar. The Noldor in this audience, and the few Vanyar who had troubled themselves to even take an interest in the quaint Silvan Elf's hearing, looked down on the wood-elf with disdain. Tathar even thought he heard a few comments about his skin, and how it was unnatural that one of the star-people should not reflect that light in their skin.

Tathar's proposal to the Valar had been but the introduction to his planned discussion, and Tathar felt cheated even before judgement was laid upon him.

"I am Tathar Neldorornion, of Eryn Galen," Tathar had formally presented himself. "I come before you to request aid in the name of my King, Thranduil Oropherion, that the people of Eryn Galen have aid in this last War."

When Tathar took a breath, Manwe had silenced him with a single glare. "Since the Awakening," the Vala had stated, "it has been the goal of the Valar to bring all the Elves across the sea, and out of Arda Marred. We will not send one Elf back, let alone an army."

Then Tathar had made the mistake of arguing, as the Valar saw it, or debating, as Tathar considered it. "I do not ask for an army. I ask only for those who wish to come, those Elves who have not given up on Arda yet. I would call upon Oropher, our First King of Eryn Galen, and all those who died in the Last Alliance, for where the Noldor fail, the Silvans and Sindar might prevail."

This, evidently, was the wrong thing to say. Manwe stood, and the Vala's anger seemed to darken the hall. Tathar turned, and left, without even bowing or listening to the Vala's outburst.

Tathar had failed.

There would be no reinforcements for the Greenwood during the War of the Ring.

_If only_, Tathar thought, _I could have brought back that two-thirds of our army who fell at Dagorlad. We could aid the Dwarves and Men when Erebor and Dale are, inevitably, assailed by Easterlings. We could eradicate the evil from Northern Greenwood entirely, and maybe even destroy Dol Guldor. Now, Thranduil is going to have to rely on Lothlorien to attack Dol Guldor, and the baby realms of Men and Dwarves to repel the Easterlings. There will be no protection for our home, and if any of the battles go ill, the Greenwood will be destroyed. This is what I would tell you, Manwe, but you will not listen to a mere wood-elf. _

_Would you have listened to Thranduil himself? I wonder. But the risk of you saying no to him, and then our people losing our leader, was too great. _


	7. To Be a Captain or a King

To be a Captain or a King, or a Steward or a Prince, or a Scout?

Legolas fell in with Boromir, at the rear of the Fellowship. They were three days out of Imladris, and already had fallen into a routine - with Legolas as the scout.

"Legolas," Boromir greeted him, and Legolas nodded in return.

After a short silence, Legolas spoke. "Are you not a great Captain of Gondor, Boromir?"

"I am a Captain of the Guard," The burly Man conceded. "I led the campaign which retook Osgiliath in the summer."

"And yet you do not complain when here you are little more than the rearguard?"

"I am protecting the Hobbits."

"You do not agree with our path. How is it that you stay silent on the matter?"

Boromir shrugged. "Aragorn and Gandalf seem to know the way. We only disagree about the Gap of Rohan."

"They refuse to listen to me. There is darkness in the Misty Mountains. We should not travel over them far south."

"You feel there is a better way. Do you deny it?"

"I crossed the Mountains near Imladris. The paths are as safe as they can be, closed to those on foot but navigable with proper preparation. One needs only a few good horses - which could be sent to the Beornings once we came down the other side. Then we make or find boats, and we ride the Anduin downriver - our enemies fear water, they would not harm us. We could reach Lothlorien in fourteen days."

"Have you done so before?"

"No, and that is why they will not hear me out. The Anduin is much safer than some rivers in my home, and we would not need to row against the current."

"What do you do at home, then? Are you one of the river-elves of Bilbo's stories?"

Legolas laughed. "No indeed. Though like all other youths I spent some years posted by the river, learning a number of skills including tracking between the tasks of collecting barrels. I was Captain of the southern defences. During the summer, guards under my command lost Gollum."

"That should not be the defining action of your career, friend, even in your own mind."

"Perhaps not. In the spring, we drove the orcs and spiders back, close to Dol Guldor, reclaiming the Forest River."

"And now, you feel restricted in the role of a scout."

"Very. I feel my age, and you all seem like children."

"And yet we have similar victories on our resumes as Commanders."

Legolas laughed. "Perhaps I should just take the chance to act my age, then. Among my own people, I am considered little older than Merry. War in the Woodland has aged all our children prematurely."

After that talk, Legolas' heart was lighter. He still thought there was a better path to have travelled, but instead he focussed on the path he trod now, and the people he walked with.


	8. Elf's Eyes

Elf's Eyes

It was the fourth day out from Rivendell, and Pippin was beginning to feel just a bit guilty about allowing the Elf - Legolas - to take his watches for him. Nearly squirming with discomfort, Pippin made his way over to Merry, who was helping Sam prepare dinner.

"Merry?" Pippin asked, and the other Hobbit excused himself to walk a little way off with his cousin.

"Yes, Pip?" Merry enquired. Pippin plopped down on a nearby rock, still trying to work out how to say it.

"Merry, I haven't been on watch yet. Legolas keeps offering to do it for me, he says I am young and need to sleep. I have to learn sometime!"

Merry's eyes snapped up to his cousins. "He's been taking mine, too."

Meanwhile, on the other side of the campsite, Gandalf and Aragorn were in deep conversation. Neither thought it odd that Legolas always seemed to have the second watch, nor that the Elf was always the first awake in the mornings, for he was, after all, an Elf, and could deal with interrupted rest better than the others.

Boromir and Gimli were off gathering more firewood, a task which was familiar and comforting to both among such strange folk so unlike their own peoples.

Frodo was insisting on helping Sam with dinner, now that his assistant had vanished, no doubt planning some kind of mischief.

When dinner was announced, Sam and Frodo handed out the plates, and soon the campsite was filled with the sound of happy munching. The perishable foodstuffs they had brought from Rivendell were beginning to run out, and so as the plates were collected by Merry for washing up, Aragorn asked Legolas if he wouldn't mind doing a spot of hunting during the night.

He received no answer, which would have been unsurprising had Gimli asked, but the entire Company drew their attention to the strange, silent Elf.

To everyone's surprise, Legolas was fast asleep, his head pillowed on his pack, right where he'd been sitting during dinner. Aragorn, with a tender healer's expression, gently lay the Elf in a more comfortable position, and began checking him over for injuries.

"He's not injured," Aragorn finally announced, and the rest of the Fellowship breathed a sigh of relief, for they had been worried that the Elf had somehow been attacked without their knowledge. Boromir and Gimli returned from their short scout around camp, finding no danger.

"I think he's just exhausted," Aragorn continued, noting that he had the whole Fellowship's attention. "He's been taking my watch as well as his own."

Pippin stared guiltily. "Strider," he said hesitantly, "Legolas has been taking my watches as well. He said I am young and need to sleep. He's also been taking Merry's." Merry nodded in agreement, silently vowing to never let another take his watch, ever again, for he was no child.

"Aragorn," Frodo said hesitantly, "Legolas didn't wake me up for my watch last night, or the night before."

Gandalf humphed. "The foolish Elfling has been taking everyone's watch, it would seem. He's clearly exhausted. I will take first watch, Boromir will take second, and Gimli will take third. The rest of you go to sleep!"

Grumbling, the Hobbits complied, though Gimli and the Men chose instead to inspect their weapons, while Aragorn occasionally looked up from his work to check on Legolas.

Finally convinced that the Elf would be fine after a few hours of rest, Aragorn followed his companions into slumber.

Boromir's watch, around the midnight hour, passed uneventfully, apart from an initial search for more firewood when Gandalf woke him up, claiming that they would need it that night. The Man tried not to look at the flickering flames, for he knew that it would ruin his night vision for almost half an hour each time he glanced at it, but also, on Gandalf's orders, had to keep the fire going.

Finally, Boromir tiredly woke the Dwarf, explaining to him that Gandalf wanted the fire going all night, and went to sleep.

Mere hours had passed before a blood curdling scream tore through the air. Gimli, who had been carefully checking for danger, had returned his attention to the Fellowship themselves, idly watching the gentle rise and fall of chests, and the slight twitch of Gandalf's nose whenever Pippin tossed or turned restlessly. Boromir was deep in an exhausted sleep, for he had been subjected to the gruelling midnight watch, and Aragorn was enjoying a full night's rest.

Then his eyes had moved to the Elf, who stared back with dull, lifeless eyes, far removed from the normal glare often bestowed upon Gimli, or the happy twinkle usually reserved for the Hobbits.

Gimli yelled, raising his axe against the unseen foe, whom he supposed must be beyond the edge of the firelight past the Elf. He stalked forward, but suddenly tripped, landing flat on his face - and no doubt blunting his beautifully sharpened axe - before clambering to his feet to see the last thing he ever expected to see - the bright eyes of an Elf, standing by his side, his bow drawn and an arrow knocked as he searched the darkness for the foe.

Gimli's axe fell out of numb fingers, and he backed away from the Elf, who still sought an enemy in the darkness beyond the camp's borders. Aragorn lowered his sword, and on the Elf's other side, so did Boromir. The Hobbits were still blearily blinking and rubbing their eyes, while Gandalf stalked across the camp towards Gimli, a terrible fury in his eyes.

"You fool!" he roared, pushing past Aragorn and Legolas. "You could have alerted anything - or anyone - to our presence here with your racket! What is the meaning of this?"

Gimli sat down, staring at the Elf, barely even noticing the towering anger that was Gandalf.

"He was dead," the Dwarf muttered, gesturing at the Elf, still in shock.

Legolas, for his part, looked like death warmed over. He silently placed his weapons back away, and spread out on his bedroll, having determined that there was no danger at present, and allowed himself to fall back to an exhausted sleep.

Boromir and the Hobbits watched in silence as the Elf's eyes glazed over, seeming almost to change colour as the sparkle of life and awareness left them.

Aragorn took Gimli by the shoulders, guiding him to stand before the sleeping Elf.

"Gimli, was this what spooked you?" he said gently, indicating the Elf's eyes. Gimli nodded, his mind a whirl of nonsense.

"Go to sleep," Gandalf instructed the Hobbits and Boromir, and settled down himself, mumbling to himself.

"Gimli," Aragorn continued, trying to get the Dwarf's attention. "Legolas is an Elf. They do not sleep as we do, not unless their bodies are sorely wounded or severely exhausted. I was worried this evening because Legolas' eyes were shut, now, he sleeps as he should. I assure you, he is quite well."

Gimli attempted to process this new information. "I thought he had been attacked," he stated numbly.

"On the contrary, Master Dwarf," Aragorn replied. "He is recovering well from four days and nights of duty. Next time you see him like this, do not be afraid. It is when his eyes are closed that we are in trouble."

.

Those words stayed with Gimli for years after. Every night he spent in the Elf's company, he would check the Elf's eyes, and be reassured that Legolas was taking care of himself. He never wanted to see those sky-blue eyes closed ever again, now that he knew what it meant.

He would gladly put up with the strangeness of sleeping with open eyes if that meant his friend was alive and healthy.


	9. Before Coming of Age

Before Coming of Age

"Before coming of age, what did you have to learn?" Frodo's innocent question took the Fellowship by surprise, for they didn't even know who he was directing the question to. Boromir was the first to answer, once he worked out that the Hobbit was asking everyone.

"One day I am to be Steward of my people. In addition to the normal tutoring in history, mathematics and the like, I had to learn many things to be prepared for the future. I have been trained to lead, to command, and to protect my home. I will protect you, Frodo Baggins, if it costs my very life."

Frodo seemed a little overawed by the Man of Gondor's declaration, and wordlessly hugged the Man of Gondor.

Merry and Pippin, of course, took it all in stride. "I'm to be Thain one day," Pippin piped up, despite Frodo already knowing, "but I only got taught about boring financial stuff and how to manage the Shire."

"In Buckland we heirs learn much more useful stuff," Merry declared. "I am to be Master of Buckland someday, and we Brandybucks defend ourselves!"

This was met with cheerful laughter, for Merry himself had asked Boromir to teach the Hobbits how to handle a sword during their stay in Rivendell.

"In Erebor, all Dwarves learn to manage a Mine, to bring out a place's true beauty and to run a successful clan. Among Dwarves, a new Clan's leader is the Dwarf who builds the new Clan," Gimli added to the conversation. "The Dwarves are taught to use all manner of weapons, and we often make our own."

"Between Imladris and the Dunedain, I was taught all I need to become a successful leader of Men," Aragorn also answered the question. "I spent many days under the careful tutelage of Lord Erestor, who had been present at many of the historical events he spoke of."

Gandalf, who stood watch, chuckled as the various members of the Fellowship spoke.

"Legolas?" Pippin asked. "What did you have to learn before you were considered adult?"

"Archery, the sword, any number of weapons," Legolas answered absently. "History, far more of it than is taught to the heirs of any other Race. Management, much like Pippin and Aragorn, and any number of miscellaneous skills. My father seemed to think it was important that the neighbours recognised my authority, and insisted that I sit in on, and even preside over, far more dull meetings than I ever wished to attend. I even had to prove my worth by standing in my father's place for a week before I was allowed to take the Trials to officially come of age."


	10. Flu

Flu

Legolas woke early, and climbed a nearby rock to softly sing to the morning, wishing he could be in a tall tree singing loudly to his homeland with his friends.

Having greeted the day, the wood-elf returned to the grassy campsite, to prepare breakfast. He, like the rest of the Fellowship, seldom took care of meals, since Sam had decided that it was his job to keep them well fed. Legolas and occasionally Aragorn would hunt, and Legolas planned to cook the leftover catch from the previous evening for breakfast.

As he stirred up the fire in preparation to cook a uniquely Greenwood trail breakfast, Legolas realised the no-one else was awake. He wasn't sure who had been assigned the final watch, but scattered about the campsite were all eight of his companions, fast asleep.

Frowning thoughtfully, Legolas took a time to thoroughly inspect their surroundings, finding nothing amiss. They were safe, at least.

When the fire was heated, the elf started cooking the meat. Usually, the hobbits would rise to the delicious smell of food, and Legolas knew that they would even rise for an unfamiliar meal. Today, however, though noses twitched, no hobbit rose eagerly in anticipation of food.

Leaving the trail breakfast in one of Sam's pots to keep warm by the fire, Legolas went to inspect his friends. Gandalf woke easily, but no others - Aragorn merely twitched and Gimli moaned, and Pippin groaned as Merry rolled away from him, exposing the youngster to the cool air. Gandalf woke with a little prodding.

"Mithrandir," Legolas said, worry in his voice, "could all our companions be poisoned? We have not come near any source of poison."

Gandalf shook his head. "Not poison, my young friend. Illness."

"Will they die?"

"No," Gandalf hastened to assure the young elf. "They might be senseless for a few days, and they will ache all over, but they will recover."

"Is there anything we can do to help?"

Gandalf gently touched Boromir's forehead, then Gimli's, and Aragorn's. "They have a fever. Take some cloths, and wet them, and place them on their foreheads. The hobbits, too - undoubtedly all have the same disease."

Legolas obeyed, and Gandalf sat by Pippin's side as the young hobbit shivered and moaned.  
"They will need water and food," Gandalf informed Legolas.

"The pot by the fire has breakfast in it. I will fetch water and refill the skins," Legolas responded.

When Legolas returned, Gandalf insisted that he eat, and then the pair of them attempted to dribble water down their companions' throats, with mixed results.

Merry woke first, and he mumbled incoherently, the word "Strider" the only thing Legolas understood. Legolas coaxed the hobbit to relax, and drink some water, and even managed to get the hobbit to eat a little food. Merry mumbled some thanks, and then fell asleep once more.

Much the same occurred each time someone stirred, and both Gandalf and Legolas spent much time coaxing their companions to eat, drink or sleep.

Legolas hunted, and prepared meals that would be easy to eat for his sick companions, while Gandalf ordered him about - more wet cloths for their foreheads, when to attempt to feed any of them, and the occasional call for more blankets if one started shivering.

That evening, Legolas ate his meal with Gandalf, both in silence. The elf washed up the dishes while the Maia checked on Aragorn, and then Legolas climbed the rock from the morning again.

He sat down, his mind fixating on the concerning state his mortal companions were in. He had never seen anything like it, except perhaps one mission when Aldanna had been poisoned by some toadstools she mistook for edible mushrooms, and even then, the elleth had needed only to let the poison pass through her system, and drink lots of water.

Legolas checked from this high vantage point for any danger, and upon finding no sign of any enemies within sight, raised his voice in song. It was a song from his homeland, in the Silvan dialect still used among the wood-elves and the army, and not even Gandalf understood the words. It had a haunting melody, for the song spoke of the despair and confusion faced by the troops of the Greenwood during the Last Alliance, when their King - and most of their army - had fallen, leaving very few Elves to make the journey home.

When Legolas finished his song, he sat quietly, tears budding in his eyes. He did not understand illness, for elves do not get sick, except for poison. This unseen enemy which had struck down his companions scared Legolas, in a way Orcs never could.

Legolas sang again, but this time he spoke of familiar places and people, and of home. His clear voice drifted over the sleeping Fellowship, comforting despite the foreign words.

Two days later, Gimli's fever broke, and he looked up at Legolas, wiping his forehead with a wet cloth. "Hey," Legolas said softly to the weak Dwarf, "relax. I am looking after you. Gandalf said that if you feel able, you can sit by the fire to eat."

Gimli nodded silently, relaxing back into his blankets. "Maybe in a few minutes," he conceded a moment later. Legolas turned to check Boromir, and Gimli gripped his wrist in a surprisingly weak grasp. "Thank you," the proud Dwarf said.

"For what?" Legolas asked, genuinely confused by the atypical behaviour of the Dwarf.

"You have kept me alive these past hours, my friend," Gimli answered. "And I know that I am not the only one of us you have tended to."

"You are one of the Fellowship," Legolas answered. "I could not leave you to suffer. Now go eat."

As Gimli shuffled and grunted in his attempt to reach the campfire, Legolas checked on Boromir, and replaced the wet cloth cooling his fever.

He then checked on Pippin, who thought he was Aragorn.


	11. Spider!

Spider!

"Spider!"

The cry jolted the Fellowship awake, and Aragorn scrambled to the rescue of the unfortunate Hobbit on watch, only to realise that someone else had got there first.

Legolas, who only a second ago had been fast asleep, crouched in a battle stance in front of Pippin, knives in hands, and gazed about the dim clearing with wide, searching eyes.

"Where did you see it?" The harsh voice which emanated from the usually merry Elf's mouth took the Fellowship by surprise. Legolas' tone spoke of more hatred and disgust and determination to scour the face of middle-earth of filth than when he had spoken of the Ring or even Sauron himself.

Legolas eyes mercilessly searched for some foul beast, and the Fellowship became uneasy, for the shout which had woken them could well draw enemies upon them unawares.

A few heartbeats later, Pippin's timid little voice could be heard from behind Legolas's defensive posture. "It... was..." Pippin took a deep breath, then continued. "It was there," and he pointed directly at Legolas' feet.

Startled, Legolas looked down, as did the audience. Beneath his light Elvish shoe was a mess of hairy, twisted, arachnoid legs, and a wet stain upon the dirt of their campsite.

Suddenly, the Elf put away his weapons and relaxed his pose, sitting down upon the rock which Pippin had been keeping watch upon. With a stick, he scraped the arachnid's mortal remains off his shoe, grimacing at the sticky squelch when the main part of it was worked free of the leather.

Pippin still stood, frozen, wide-eyed, as he watched Legolas.

"It was only a spider," he finally commented weakly.

As most of the Fellowship went back to their bedrolls, Merry and Aragorn coaxed Pippin out of his frightened state, after seeing the usually cheerful Elf so terrifyingly overreact to danger.

"Now that I am awake, I realise there was no reason for me to scare you as I did." Legolas' soft voice made Pippin flinch, as he remembered the flat, dead, merciless tone he had used earlier, while scanning for the spider. "I am sorry that my actions caused you concern."

Pippin managed a polite nod to accept the apology, and his teeth chattered as he pulled the blanket Aragorn had so thoughtfully provided for him tighter about his shoulders. Merry immediately pulled him into a hug, and Pippin was grateful for the comfort of the familiar embrace.

"Why?" Pippin finally managed to ask, after Aragorn had silently left them to seek rest.

Legolas sighed, and stretched his long legs out before him. "I have woken to the panicked cry of _spider_ far too many times in my life. Truly, the word is usually uttered in either Sindarin or Silvan, the Elvish languages we use in Mirkwood. I reacted instinctively, and for that I am sorry. There are no forests here for spiders to hunt in, and no local food source for them to feed on. There cannot be spiders nearby."

A few minutes passed before Pippin spoke again. "You looked ready to defend against orcs, or some other creature. A spider on the ground doesn't call for knives in defence."

"You would not say that if you had seen the spiders I have fought."

Pippin glanced at Legolas, whose face was shadowed in the dim light of the moon. Pippin would have described what Legolas was doing as brooding, if he had been any other race.

"I will take the rest of the watch, Peregrin," Legolas suddenly announced. "I shall not find peaceful sleep again this night. Rest."

Pippin accepted Legolas' offer, and crawled in amongst the other Hobbits, between Frodo and Merry. He fell asleep, still wondering about Legolas' overreaction to the simple danger of a large spider.

Out of the blue, Pippin suddenly understood everything that had happened. That spider, tonight, to Legolas, had been so small as to be utterly insignificant unless it happened to be venomous. The Elf's definition of _large spider_ was in keeping with Bilbo's tales about giant spiders, large enough to eat Dwarves or Hobbits, and possibly even Elves or Men.

With a chuckle at his own innocence, Pippin finally found sleep.


	12. What's Wrong With Elves?

The Purpose of Races

"What's wrong with Elves?"

Pippin's voice cut through the dull trek's monotony like a knife. The whole Fellowship seemed to suck in its collective breath, waiting for a response from the Elf.

Legolas kept walking, in the rearguard, without comment.

"Well?" Pippin addressed his musings to the group as a whole, rather than just asking his questions randomly, as seemed the norm.

It was Aragorn who answered, from his position behind Gandalf at the front of the group. "What do you mean, Pippin?"

"Well," the youngest member started without a pause for breath, "Elves were the Firstborn. Then there were Dwarves and Men, and later Hobbits. Why isn't everyone perfect like an Elf?"

"Elves aren't perfect," Aragorn responded, as Pippin had already concluded.

"So how do Men, or Dwarves, or Hobbits improve on Elves?"

Gandalf called a halt, for this open plain was unending for many miles and the young hobbits would need a rest before the end, and there were no enemies currently in the area.

Finally, Aragorn continued to answer Pippin's question. "In the beginning, there were both Elves and Dwarves. Elves were made by Iluvatar, and Dwarves were made by Aule, though Iluvatar gave them consciousness. So neither Dwarves nor Elves are based upon the other."

"That is why Legolas and Gimli are so different, but neither is really better or worse than the other overall?"

"Yes, Pippin. Men were also created by Iluvatar, as the Secondborn, a modified version of the Firstborn."

"Like how Mama modified her Mama's recipes to make them better?" Pippin clarified.

"Yes."

"So how are Men better than Elves?" Pippin's face twisted with confusion. "I mean," he hastened to add, before Aragorn, Boromir or Legolas could take offense, "Elves are stronger, and faster, and have better sight and hearing - that's why Legolas is usually on guard."

Aragorn nodded, as Boromir, Legolas, Gimli and Gandalf listened to the conversation.

Sam and Frodo cheerfully prepared some lunch from the pony's packs, idly listening to Aragorn's explanation.

"That is true, Pippin, Elves do have many physical advantages over Men. But Elves are not perfect."

"I would actually be tempted to propose Hobbits as the closest race to perfect," Legolas added, folding his legs under himself as he sat on the grass near Pippin.

"I am inclined to agree with you," Gandalf declared cheerfully.

"Elves have many problems," Gimli declared, cuffing Legolas on the shoulder, "but I do not think you are talking about stiff necks or a general lack of appreciation for straight lines." Legolas shrugged, commenting mildly that nowhere in nature were straight lines to be found, only curves.

Pippin, wide eyed, drank in the information he was receiving, plainly begging for more.

Aragorn sighed and obliged the hobbit's request. "Men, Dwarves and Hobbits are not so bound to Arda as the Elves," he began. "If an Elf is killed, his fëa resides in Mandos for a time, under the care of Lord Námo, a Vala. Then, when the elf's fëa is healed, he may go on to be reincarnated in Valinor."

"If," Legolas corrected. "If the elf's fëa is healed. It is not always the case that the fëa _can_ be healed."

"When a Man, or a Dwarf, or a Hobbit dies, he goes on, to whither we do not know."

"So that is better than going to Valinor?" Pippin seemed utterly confused by this concept.

Legolas took over the explanation. "Do you know what orcs are, Pippin?"

"Evil creatures created by Morgoth to cover the earth in darkness," the young hobbit recited, plainly having heard it from Bilbo while in Rivendell.

"No creature was created by Morgoth," Gandalf interrupted. "Morgoth corrupted many beings, including the giant spiders Bilbo once encountered, and the orcs."

"Orcs were Elves, once," Legolas confided with great sadness. "In the very beginning, there were many Elves who wandered alone and were lost, and they were tortured until they became the first orcs. In recent years, we do not go near Dol Guldor, for too many Elves have been captured there." A tear slipped out as Legolas spoke. "The Nazgul there tortures Elves, until they are utterly destroyed, but the enemy began to leave their faces intact. You cannot imagine the horror of seeing your friends, your classmates, your teachers and even your own family become consumed by evil. We do not allow captives to be taken, for the most part. In Mirkwood, kinslayer is synonymous with kinsaver.

"Two guards were taken captive when Gollum escaped. One was a young warrior, barely older than myself. He could not survive torture, and his fëa might travel safely to Mandos. But the other, a senior guard with centuries of experience, she will be amongst the hoards besieging my homeland ere the spring is begun.

"An Elf's strength comes from his fëa, and Elvish mothers give much to their children of their own fëar. But an Elf's fëa is also his weakness, for once exposed to enough torture, violence and evil, the fëa is irreversibly changed. The Elf is no more, and in his place is an orc. That is why Men, and Dwarves, and Hobbits do not have a fëa, but rather a soul. A Man can be killed by an orc, but he cannot become evil."


End file.
